


In Rare Form

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-24
Updated: 2010-08-24
Packaged: 2017-10-11 06:02:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/109186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Those were normal kinds of things, even if Ariadne now knew that there were so many things outside of the realm of normal. Seeing Mal? That was a whole new realm of <i>not normal.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	In Rare Form

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the "hallucinations" box on my [hc_bingo](http://community.livejournal.com/hc_bingo/) card.

At first, she thought it was just a trick of the light, like a dark shadow at the corner of her eye when she was waiting to go to bed. Or maybe it was just a shifting shape from the shadows cast on the wall from street lights outside. It had happened before when she was a child and afraid of the dark and the things it hid. Those were normal kinds of things, even if Ariadne now knew that there were so many things outside of the realm of normal.

When she saw the shape standing in front of her, however, Ariadne knew that she had just stepped into a whole new realm of _not normal._

The shadowy shape shimmered in front of her vision, then disappeared. She rubbed her eyes. Maybe she was just tired. She was trying to cram too many classes into her schedule and was trying to finish her last year of school in one semester. She was trying to pretend that the Fischer job hadn't changed her, hadn't altered how she viewed reality. She was still an architect, still a dreamer. She could still create things, and she could do it on paper and in models just as well as she could in dreams. She was probably too stressed. She should have cut back on her classes, should have taken the time to slow down.

Yet slowing down meant time to think, and thinking always tended to lead to one place: Arthur.

It didn't make too much sense, considering that he didn't keep in touch all that often. She had gotten one phone call and three e-mail responses to her dozen attempts at contact, and Ariadne couldn't help but wonder if she was coming across as desperate. It had been phenomenal to work with him, to see how intense and focused he was on all the details before a job, and to see how that information came to life in the middle of the dream. He was the opposite of everyone she had ever known and everything she wanted to be. She wasn't nearly as organized, though her attention to detail was close to his. Plus, she couldn't help but want to see him without those suits on. It was probably just an infatuation brought on by the fact that Ariadne was a workaholic. She hadn't dated since her sophomore year of college, and she was about to finish her doctorate. That _had_ to be sad on so many levels.

Ariadne turned her head, intending to finish up her reading to prepare for the next seminar. She was so done with theory and preparation. She wanted to go out there and _build._

Mal Cobb was standing in front of her, face drawn and eyes wide open. _You are a broken thing, aren't you?_ she seemed to ask.

Ariadne screamed long after she vanished.

***

She was working too hard. That had to be it. She was working too hard, reading too much, _thinking_ too much and longing to see Arthur again. That was all. Thinking about Arthur brought back memories of the Fischer job, and it was no wonder she was thinking of Mal. Trying not to get swallowed up in her wake the same way Cobb had been had taken a lot of effort, and there had to be something in her head that just wasn't about to let go of that. She had felt different during the job, like someone necessary rather than just another nameless and faceless part of the student body. She had been important and vital and she mattered in a way that she didn't really feel while at school.

Of course, out there on the job had been danger and action. School was nothing but being tucked away and reading about it. Ariadne was fully aware of how restless she had felt even before the job; it had been part of the reason why she took it in the first place. The restlessness was worse now; she needed to _do_ things again, _create_ in a way that she wasn't able to do while getting her doctorate. Theory wasn't good enough anymore.

Mal continued to show up, flashes out of the corner of her eyes. She was in that same black dress she had died in, those heels she had kicked off somehow still on her feet. _You can see me,_ she taunted, flashing that wicked, malevolent grin of hers. _I_ know _you can see me. And no one else can._

No one else could see her because she was dead.

Ariadne couldn't seem to shake the ghost of a woman she had never met in real life. She saw her, plain as day, standing next to her professors at school. Next to the librarian, Mal was holding a finger up over her lips as if to silence all noise. She ran her fingers along Ariadne's laptop, tapping the lid in a staccato rhythm that almost sounded like Morse code for SOS. She rifled through Ariadne's closet and pulled out a scarf that reminded her of one of Arthur's ties. Mal displayed it proudly, as if showing it off for Ariadne, as if saying _Doesn't this remind you of someone?_ before vanishing. The scarf remained stubbornly in the closet.

Ariadne finally buckled and called Arthur when she could actually hear Mal's voice in her ear. "Who do you think you're fooling?" With shaking fingers, she stabbed at the buttons on her cell phone. Mal only laughed, and Ariadne wondered when she would begin to feel Mal pulling her hair back to make Ariadne look up at her. "You're just a little girl, aren't you? Just playing at being grown up? Or maybe you just never woke up."

But she had checked her totem. And checked it again. She checked it all the damn time now, its weight in her palm comfortable and frightening at once. It told her this was the real world, that this wasn't simply a dream. It also told her that she was really and truly hallucinating Mal all over the place.

Arthur sounded slightly sleepy. "Do you have any idea what time it is?" he asked, his voice a low rumbling growl.

That grounded her, but a bubble of hysteria was making its way up and out of Ariadne's lips. "I can't... I see her, Arthur. All the time. And now I hear her."

Arthur was silent for a moment, and Ariadne wondered if she should have hung up. "Who are you talking about?" he asked finally, his voice nothing but confusion.

"Mal," Ariadne nearly sobbed. "She started talking to me today."

"Why are you calling me about this?" Arthur asked, his voice tight. It nearly broke Ariadne to hear it.

"I trust you," she whispered. "No one else knows about this." She kept her eyes shut; somehow she knew that Mal was coming around from behind her to sit in front of her in a low crouch. She didn't want to see that dark hair, didn't want to see those eyes staring at her. She didn't want to think she was crazy, but she had to be, right?

"Where are you?"

"Paris. I'm still in Paris," she choked out. "I thought I could pretend to be normal and finish my degree."

Arthur blew out a breath, and it sounded less like an impatient huff and more like the wheels were starting to turn in his mind. "I'll be there. Just don't... Don't do anything stupid, will you? Stay home from class if you have to. I have to finish something here, and then I'll be right there."

Ariadne clutched the phone tight in her hand, almost unable to believe it. He was going to see her. He was worried about her. Never mind that she was crazy, maybe there was something there after all. "Okay. I'll stay safe."

She opened her eyes and saw Mal looking at her in pity. "Oh, _ma chère,_ it's never what you think it is."

***

Ariadne took in Arthur's surprise without even blinking. She knew she looked terrible. She hadn't been sleeping well, plagued by odd dreams and half remembered thoughts that she couldn't keep her focus on. Mal was sitting on her kitchen counter, wearing a blue sundress and looking incredibly bored. She waved at Arthur, who couldn't see her, and pouted when Ariadne frowned at her. Arthur was dressed in a crisp suit, hair slicked back, PASIV case in hand and a duffel bag on his shoulder. "How long have you been seeing her?" he asked, voice gentler than his expression would have led her to believe.

She sat down on her living room floor and watched him rest the PASIV case on her coffee table. "Months now, I guess. It was a shadow at first, and I thought I was just tired. But then it was her, it couldn't be anyone else. And I called you as soon as she spoke."

"What does she want from you?" he asked, looking up at her. Ariadne shook her head. "She must want something."

"She just... She watches me. She sometimes pulls out my clothes or things like that. And then she started talking, telling me nothing is what I think it is." Ariadne wrapped her arms around herself. "I think I'm going crazy."

Arthur nodded at the case. "I think you need to talk to her and find out what she really wants."

"But..."

"This happened after the Fischer job," he explained patiently. "You've never done a run before, let alone one that complicated. You did wonderfully," he added hastily, "but it was traumatic for everyone involved." Arthur paid careful attention to opening the silver case. "I shouldn't have just let you walk away from that. I should have realized this would take its toll on you. I'm sorry," he said abruptly, looking up. "I think you have some residue left over from the job. It's like daily residue in your dreams, only in reverse."

"So how do I get rid of her?"

"Figure out what she wants."

_But then you leave me,_ Ariadne thought suddenly, and her heart began pounding in her chest. Arthur hadn't come for her sake before, but had only come to see her because she was in trouble. And if that trouble ended, what reason would he have to stay?

Oh, she was a sick little puppy, wasn't she?

Arthur touched her arm in concern, startling her from her thoughts. "You'll be all right, Ariadne. This isn't the first time something like that has happened."

"It isn't?" she asked, eyes widening. Maybe she wasn't crazy after all.

He smiled at her, just a slight stretching of lips. "It's not something people talk about, for obvious reasons. But it's not unheard of."

"You know everything about that kind of stuff, right?" she asked, feeling a bit more relaxed about the situation. Something in his eyes shifted at her words, but he turned away to look at the dials on the PASIV. "Arthur?"

"You'll be fine. I'll make sure of it."

He always took things so seriously. He had always listened to her while they were working together, but he had grown distant once the job was done. "Was it hard for you, then? After the job? We didn't talk much after." Her voice trailed off when she saw the tight way he held his shoulders, the way his fingers stilled over the inner workings of the case. "Look, forget it. You don't have to answer..."

"It was a tough job, even for someone who's done that sort of thing a lot. Don't beat yourself up over it." He turned back to her, his face that same impassive and professional expression she had looked into while preparing for the Fischer job. They had managed to joke around a few times before, but now it felt almost as if they were strangers.

_I missed you,_ Ariadne almost wanted to say, but his eyes shifted from hers and the moment was lost.

And anyway, Mal was standing behind him, her hands on her hips and glaring at Ariadne. Ariadne glared at her right back, startling Arthur for a moment. "Wait... You're seeing her right now, aren't you?"

"She doesn't look very happy with me," Ariadne explained, tearing her eyes away from Mal. "She's not always scary, but right now she's really not happy with me."

"Because you're looking to get rid of her?" Arthur guessed.

_I'm almost afraid to. What if you don't come back? What if I never see you again? What if she's the only thing to remind me of you?_

But she couldn't say the words, and Ariadne dug into her pocket for her totem. "Is there ever anything you wish you could have done differently?" she asked, staring at her feet with her knees pulled up to her chest. Oh, wonderful. Now she sounded utterly pathetic.

"Yeah," Arthur muttered after a moment. He turned back to the PASIV. "But it doesn't matter now. You can't turn back the clock and get a do-over. Life isn't like that."

"Sometimes I wish I could," Ariadne admitted.

Arthur paused and then looked at her curiously. "What would you change?"

"I wouldn't have gone back to school. I would have stayed with you." She realized what she said when there was a slight twitch in Arthur's mouth. "With all of you," she added hastily. "I miss how it was when we worked together."

"You're a fantastic architect. And you don't need the money. Why did you bother?"

"I didn't like the idea of the degree left undone. But with Mal and being tired all the time, I don't think it's worth it anymore." Mal was grinning behind Arthur, then moved to dance in lazy circles around Ariadne's living room. Ariadne shut her eyes and rubbed at her temples. "I think that's what she was trying to tell me."

"You can still go under," Arthur offered, holding up the needles that would hook her into the PASIV. The somnacin was ready to be dosed, and she would be in the dreamscape, ready to create the way she had during the Fischer job.

"If you go with me," Ariadne said impulsively.

He was surprised, but pleasantly so. "I wouldn't have let you go alone."

She reached out and grasped his hand tightly. "Thank you, Arthur," she murmured. She flashed him a watery smile and he squeezed her hand tightly. "I'm ready."

***

The wind was blowing across the deserted and devastated city landscape. It looked like a bomb had gone off, the shockwave shattering glass as it traveled outward from its epicenter. Crumbling brick and exposed stone foundations only added to the look. It was gloom and doom, despair thick and cloying all around.

Arthur looked at Ariadne with an eyebrow raised. He was in a three piece suit, tie around his throat in a full Windsor knot and Oxfords gleaming on his feet. He was every inch an immaculate and formal figure, his eyes raking over her form. Ariadne looked down at herself, at the black lace dress that clung to ever curve, the black slingback pumps and the gleam of layered silver necklaces around her throat and drawing a teasing glance toward her cleavage. She could feel her hair in marcelled waves, smooth and glossy and looking like something that Arthur might appreciate on a woman.

Somewhere in the distance, across an empty, broken plaza, the jangle of insane laughter was barely discernible over the howling wind. Arthur reached out, and Ariadne instantly took his hand. "Is this how you see me, then?" he asked, voice low and carefully pitched for Ariadne's ears.

She looked at him in wonder. "You mean you don't like the suits? But they look so good on you." She managed not to flush when she realized what she said.

His lips quirked up in a half smile. "Why do you suppose we're _here,_ when you're an architect?"

"I haven't been building. Not like this. Not like before." Her fingers tightened over his. "I've only had regular dreams, and they're like sand. They don't stay with me. I can't always remember them, and I don't always see where I've been."

Something shifted in his gaze. "If you come back into this, if you do this too much, you lose the ability to dream. You won't have that at all."

On impulse, Ariadne slid her other hand out to grasp his other one and pulled him close. "I know what I'd be losing. I know what I'd be getting instead. I _know."_ Her eyes burned into his, and her lips parted slightly as she eyed his lips. "I know what I want, even if I can't have it."

Arthur frowned as she pulled away and began walking toward the plaza. In her dreams, she could walk in these tall slingback heels without tottering over, she could sashay and feel as though her curves were alluring. It was a dream, after all. She was more than she was in real life, and she could be fucking _amazing._

Arthur caught her arm. "What do you mean you can't have what you want? What is it that you want? All you have to do is ask, and any team in the world would beg to have you join them. You walked away from that kind of life."

She reached out and touched his cheek, curling her fingers around his face. "What if I'm waiting hear for one specific person to ask to join in?" She drew the ball of her thumb across his lips as he frowned at her. He wasn't disentangling himself from her, so this had to be a good sign.

"And Mal?"

"She terrifies me, but I won't be like her. She's nothing but hate and guilt, trying to make me think I won't be able to hack it."

"Then you need to see what else she wants. That's why we're doing this." But his eyes lingered over her mouth for a fraction too long, and he followed the trail of necklaces down as he let go of her. "She's here for a reason, just like she was with Cobb for a reason."

"And when she leaves, you will, too," Ariadne murmured, half to herself. She drew her hand back and turned toward the empty plaza. "I suppose it's time to see what she wants."

Arthur nearly stopped her, but he could see the vague outline of a person in the distance. It was a humanoid shape, a figure wearing a dark dress with its arms out to the sides as if walking a tightrope. Ariadne was walking forward, toward it, her arms at her sides and her hips swaying as she walked.

Later, he would have no idea why he said it, but he shouted "I could stay," as Ariadne stepped forward far enough that the edges of her were starting to blur. She turned, her profile in sharp relief against the fuzzy sky behind her. "I could stay," he repeated in a normal tone of voice.

Her lips curled into a smile of relief, and she started to turn toward Arthur. "I wish--"

Hands shot forward from the haze behind Ariadne and dragged her into it. The sharpness of her features dissolved and bled into nothingness. It didn't matter how fast Arthur was in dreams; he moved like molasses compared to the speed Ariadne dissolved in. He let out a wordless shout to the overcast sky above, but it didn't matter. Everything faded around him, colors muting to gray and then bleeding out into nothingness. He was in the center of a gray mass, no end in sight and no sense of perspective.

With nothing else left to do, Arthur chose a direction and began to walk.

***

Ariadne was sitting on a metal chair, her hands folded neatly in her lap. Mal was sitting in front of her, seemingly poised to strike despite being in the same position. Ariadne was relaxed somehow, though Mal seemed to carry an undercurrent of anticipation. She seemed more like a caged thing, more like someone waiting for the other shoe to drop. Ariadne simply looked at her, not sure exactly what was going to happen next. _"Chérie,_ do you want to wake up?"

"Would I still see you there?"

"Perhaps," Mal replied in a coy tone. She still seemed edgy, a restlessness caught beneath her skin. She seemed to be in constant motion even though she was sitting still.

"Then no, I'm not ready to wake up yet." Ariadne looked at Mal steadily. This had happened before, Arthur said. This wasn't the first time this had happened. This wasn't a sign that she was going insane. "What do you want?"

"You're getting rid of me, aren't you?"

"If I can."

"I don't _want_ to go!" Mal snarled, lips drawn back to expose her teeth. "You'd destroy me again? Leave me with nothing left? You'd kill the very heart of you!"

"What are you talking about?"

"I am more than just a shade, Ariadne," Mal replied, voice tight and angry. "You've ignored that fact for a long, long time. If you manage to destroy me, another will take my place." She stood, her fists at her sides and her eyes flashing. "You aren't so innocent as you'd have the others believe. You aren't perfect, _chère."_

"But I didn't--!"

Mal simply laughed and parted curtains that Ariadne hadn't seen before. Arthur was standing there, his eyes flicking between the two of them. "Didn't you?" Mal asked coldly.

"No, I didn't ever say that," Ariadne said, shooting to her feet. "And what does Arthur have to do with this?"

Mal's eyes flashed with dark humor. "Do you really want me to answer that now? You know what I would tell him, don't you?"

Arthur was watching Ariadne now, taking in the flush along her cheeks and the vicious look on Mal's face. "You don't have to say anything, Ariadne," he said in a low voice, coming into the room. "You don't have to do this to yourself."

"Little Miss Perfect has so many little secrets," Mal hissed. "So many dark places she tries to hide. But you can't hide them from _me,_ and I will always be there if you try to ignore them," she hissed.

"There are no secrets," Ariadne insisted, looking at Arthur. She was pleading with him to believe her, but that expression simply implied that there were indeed secrets. "There's nothing special about me. I'm just a workaholic. I'm just an architect."

"There's no 'just' anything," Arthur murmured, standing in front of her. He could hear Mal's delighted chuckle behind him, and wondered what traumatic thing Mal's memory had latched onto. He touched Ariadne's shoulder. "Whatever she's talking about, it probably happened for a reason, didn't it?"

Ariadne looked at him, stricken. "What?"

"Things happen for a reason," Arthur said in a quiet voice, massaging her shoulder gently. "Whatever happened before led you on the path to that one particular school where Cobb's father-in-law taught. It led you to to his notice, to Cobb interviewing you, to getting involved with the job. It led you _here."_ Ariadne's vulnerable expression brightened. "I don't need to know whatever it is that happened, but I do think it's time you let go of whatever it is. Otherwise, you won't get free of Mal."

She pressed her lips together and made a decision. "My father died when I was little and my stepfather was an alcoholic that hit my mom. He was mean and he was awful and I never understood why my mother loved him," she admitted, eyes getting watery. "I never wanted to be like that. One day I put rubbing alcohol in his vodka. I thought it would just make him sick, but he was in the hospital for a long time. He nearly died there, and it was all my fault."

Arthur hadn't known about that, she could tell in the surprise that flitted briefly across his features. It had never been something she admitted to, of course. It had never gone into any documentation. But she had carried it with her, the shadow she tried to outshine. That was where she had come from, but it wasn't somewhere she was going to be. His hand tightened on her shoulder. "Do you still see her?"

Ariadne torn her eyes away from his. "No. No, I don't."

"That doesn't mean she's gone," Arthur warned her. "It doesn't mean something else won't happen." His hand trailed down her arm. "I don't think any less of you, if that's what you're worried about."

She looked back at him startled. "You don't? But... I _hurt_ him when I didn't mean to. What kind of person does that make me?"

"Human."

He leaned down, kissing her lips gently, his hand cupping her face. Ariadne clung to him as their surroundings began to whirl around them, a hurricane that dissolved everything to white. When they separated, she could see the clear expression on his face, the understanding in his eyes. "Sometimes we all do things we're not proud of, Ariadne," he said softly. "That doesn't mean we're horrible people. We're all flawed in some ways. None of us are perfect."

"After we wake up... Can we go out for coffee?"

"We could right now. There's time left, still."

Ariadne shook her head. "I want something real. I need to know this isn't all in my head."

"You need to know _I'm_ not residue," Arthur guessed, and Ariadne nodded with a touch of embarrassment. But he smiled and shrugged. "I can understand that." He linked his fingers through hers, and Ariadne held on tightly. "So what shall we do until we wake up?"

Ariadne smiled and the world around them started to shift. "Let's build a city full of paradoxes and blind alleys. Let's build something amazing."

He looked around at the straight walls and angles of the buildings, the detail in the lights shining through and the street lights all around them. If he thought he saw Mal sitting in a window far above him, he said nothing.

Residue was there for a reason, and Ariadne was hardly the first to have to deal with it. At least she wouldn't have to go through it alone.

The End


End file.
